Fork In The Road
by Sapphire1
Summary: After Scott is injured during an earthquake, he finds that everything he once knew has changed. COMPLETE. Based on the TV show. I do crave feedback, hint ;)
1. Earthquake

Fork in the Road

By Sapphire

Disclaimer: Not mine, I just borrow the boys for a little while. I promise I'll return them mostly unharmed (except Virgil who later gets .... nah, that would be telling grin). The 'green hippo' comparison in chapter 5 is originally from Christine and used with her permission. I have finshed the story, but part of it is still with my beta reader (thanks, Mac).

Part 1 - Earthquake

The rising morning sun touched the peak of Mt. Harono, better known to the residents of the small volcanic island as Mt. Tracy. Dormant for the last hundred years, the volcano formed the centre of the island, its flanks home to the various buildings forming the home to Jeff Tracy and his five sons. And in some of its vast caves left behind by the lava flows of times long ago were hidden the hangars with the powerful machines, which formed the core of International Rescue, the secret organization which was dedicated to save lives around the world, regardless of race, creed and belief.

Everything was quiet this early in the morning. Most of the people calling the island their home were still deeply asleep. Only exception was the lone form of a dark-haired man, running along the beach wearing light sweats and a short-sleeved white t-shirt. A thin sheen of sweat covered his skin, darkening the t-shirt at his back. Even though it was early, it was already pretty warm, one of the reasons the eldest Tracy son preferred to do his rounds first thing each day.

Scott Tracy was on his second tour around the island. One more, and he would head back to the main house, take a quick shower and then start breakfast.

Suddenly all birds from a nearby tree took wing, screaming in protest at something Scott couldn't see. The dark-haired man missed a step and almost fell. For one second he thought he had been distracted by the birds and overlooked a root hidden by the sand, but then he heard something like a deep moan which seemed to come from the very depth of the Earth. He stopped, and before he knew it he felt like he was lifted up a foot, shifted to one side and then dropped down again. Only, his feet had never left the ground. In fact, it had been the ground that had done the moving.

For a moment Scott was frozen, his mind trying to cope with what has happened. But then he realized what must have been going on.

An earthquake.

A fairly mild one, really, maybe a four, tops, if he was any judge. But there might be more to come, and the next one might be worse.

Not hesitating for a second, he started to run again. Only this time, instead of a relaxed jog, it was a full out race. He had to get to the house quickly and see if anyone from his family had been injured or trapped by the quake, and to make sure that everybody was safe in case there was another one.

When Jeff Tracy had made the island his home twelve years ago, he had made sure that the construction of his new residence was up to any safety standards imaginable. Having an extinct volcano in one's back yard was a pretty good indicator that the area wasn't really the most stable on the planet, and he had made sure that the construction of the house reflected that. He also had taken steps – assisted by his friend and resident genius Brains and some of the best volcanologists money could buy -- to make sure that Mt. Harono was indeed extinct, and would never ever change its mind. Thousands of sensors lined the many passages honeycombing the island, monitoring the mountain closely. Not much, though, they could do against earthquakes.

Scott didn't really worry that the house would collapse, or anything like that. But there was always the chance that something fell over, or that somebody was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Scott had made it halfway to the house, having reached a stretch that was mainly made up of large rocks, when the next quake hit.

He had no warning when he heard a deep groan, like a very large animal in considerable pain. Then the world shifted to the left, then to the right and then back to the left again.

A small, detached part of his mind registered that this quake was stronger than the previous one, but the largest section of his brain was working hard to cope with the wide crack that had opened up directly across his path. He windmilled wildly with his arms, fighting for balance, but to no avail. His forward momentum carried him on, and he fell, hitting his head at a nearby rock.

Distantly he realized that he was sliding down somewhere, and then he hit his head against another hard surface.

After that there was nothing.

oooooo

Scott woke with the mother of all headaches. Some Japanese drummers seemed to have taken up residence in his head, with the firm intention to make his skull the biggest drum bowl on Earth.

Somebody placed a wet cloth over his eyes and forehead and he let out a content sigh at the relief it brought.

Fingers played through his hair, stroking it back in a familiar gesture. His mom had used to do that every time he had been sick as a child. Even though it had been over fifteen years, he still remembered this gesture. Back then, he had known by it that even if he wasn't up to par, he was loved and cared for, and this, at least to his young mind, had helped him to get better, even more than the medicine he had been forced to take.

The cloth was taken away and he made a small sound of protest.

"I think he's coming around," a woman's voice said.

The voice was somehow familiar, even though Scott had some problems placing it. It wasn't Tin-Tin's voice, that much he was sure of. Assistant to Brains and secretary to Scott's father, she sometimes acted also as nurse when Scott or one of his brothers was injured – an occurrence that happened often enough considering the dangerous profession they all were in.

But this voice was too deep, a gentle alto that soothed Scott's headache. And she sounded too young be grandma, not that Scott would have any problems recognizing her voice normally.

"This was a bad fall he took," another voice answered. This voice Scott had no problems to place; it belonged to his father. "You're sure he'll be all right?"

"Quite sure, darling. You worry too much."

'Darling'?!? Nobody ever called his father 'darling'. Least of all a strange woman. Who was that person?

He forced his eyes open, but closed them immediately again when the light cut through his brain like a sharp lance. He moaned, partly from the pain, and partly from frustration because he knew somehow it was very important to solve the riddle the strange woman presented.

"Scott," his father said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Wait a moment. Joyce is closing the blinds. That should help with the pain."

'Joyce'? Curious and curiouser. This had been the name of his mother. But she's been dead for thirteen years, so it couldn't be her. But that voice ...

"What happened?" he asked, moving to somewhat saver grounds.

"Do you remember the earthquake?" Jeff Tracy asked.

Earthquake? For a moment, he tried to understand what his father was saying, but then he remembered. His morning run, the earth shaking like a wild bronco in a rodeo, a crack opening in front of him.

"Yes," he said. "I was on my way back to the house ..."

"You must have fallen into an underground cave opened by the quake. After the shaking had stopped, we all went out searching for you. Gordon found you and we got you out. You've got quite a knock on your head so we had a doctor from the mainland checking you out. He said you would be okay, though, so we decided to keep you here."

Well, that explained his headache, and maybe even the cotton socks taste that filled his mouth.

This problem solved, he went back to the other one.

Who was the woman named Joyce who called his father 'Darling'?

He opened his eyes a crack, finding the room darkened. The pain was bearable, so he dared to go further, opening his eyes all the way. His father was a dark shape to his right, slightly blurry, but as he focused his form sharpened and he saw the worry plainly in his face. Slowly Scott moved his head to the left, as the woman's voice was coming from that side.

All he saw at first was a shadow against the window in her back. Then she moved to the side, and he finally could see her clearly. His mouth dropped open. This wasn't possible. This simply was not possible.

His mother was dead. She had been dead for over thirteen years, when an avalanche had buried her and two of his brothers while skiing in Aspen. They had managed to save John and Gordon, but they had been too late for her. She had been already dead when they had reached her.

As much as he had wished for every day for the last thirteen years that it were different, she was dead, and nothing he, or his brothers, or his father could do, would ever bring her back.

"Do you want some water, honey," Joyce Tracy offered her son, holding out a glass.

tbc

Ideas, comments, checks? Just let me know.   



	2. Fight or Flight

Fork in the Road

By Sapphire

Disclaimer: see first chapter.

Part 2 - Fight or Flight

"You're dead!" were the first words he blurted out, not thinking. He couldn't think. It wasn't possible. His mind was running in a tight circle, repeating over and over, 'Mom' and 'but she's dead'.

The woman's eyes widened. She took a small step backwards. Dropping the glass she'd been holding, it exploded into a million shards on the floor. Nobody noticed. Her hand flew to her mouth.

"Scott!" his father called out. "What are you doing?"

Scott didn't look at his father. His eyes were fixed on the woman who sounded and looked so much like his mother. But who couldn't be his mother. This wasn't possible.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"Scott, what is the matter with you?" came from his right. "Don't you know your mother?"

"You are dead," he repeated more forceful. "You are not my mother."

"Honey," the woman started, but was interrupted by Scott. He couldn't listen to her. He wouldn't accept the oh-so-familiar endearment from this impostor. Yes, that was it. She had to be an impostor.

"You. Are. Not. My. Mother!" Scott all but screamed.

Wildly he looked around. He had to get out of here. Adrenalin was pumping through his veins, the 'fight-or-flight' reaction strong. Something was not right here. Heck, nothing was right here.

He had to get out.

He tossed off the blanket covering his legs and bounced off the bed. Shoving his father aside, he tried to get to the door.

But his father wouldn't allow it. The older Tracy wrapped his arms around Scott's middle just as he was trying to push by him. He held him in a vice grip. Scott struggled, but his father wouldn't let go.

"Scott," he grunted, "stop that."

"No! Let me go!"

"No, Scott. Calm down!"

"No."

They struggled on. Scott was beyond reason or rhyme, his whole world up side down. He wasn't thinking clearly, his only thought to get out, to get away. He wasn't even sure why, he just knew he had to.

Finally, he managed to plant an elbow in his father's face, and the older Tracy's hold loosened a little. Scott twisted and almost got out of his father's grip when he heard a low hiss. There was a small pinprick as something cold touched his upper arm.

The drug worked fast and the world turned black and then disappeared altogether.

ooooo

When he woke up the next time, the headache was gone. The whole world seemed to be packed in cotton and he felt a little bit like floating.

He had no problem remembering what happened, but for some reason he didn't seem to mind at all. Yes, his mother was back from the dead, but there was no reason to be concerned about this. He even knew that his present mood of tranquillity was most likely due to the drug that had knocked him out, but that same drug prevented him from being too concerned about that as well.

He opened his eyes. The room was in semi-darkness. Still he could make out the form of somebody sitting in a chair next to his bed.

Alerted by some movement, the form got up and Scott could see that it was his father. He sported a large bruise on the side of his chin where Scott's elbow had connected. He reached out and felt Scott's forehead gently.

"How do you feel, son?" he asked, concern evident in his voice and eyes.

Right now, Scott didn't feel anything so he didn't speak.

"You have us worried, you know. I wanted to take you to the mainland, but Joyce thinks you'll be better off here."

'Joyce'. So it hadn't been a dream – this had been a possibility after all. This 'Joyce' did exist.

But was she really his mother?

Was she really alive?

Strange. For the last thirteen years there had rarely been a day he hadn't wished his mother had somehow survived the avalanche. For his father's sake, who had suffered so much when she had died; for the sake of his younger brothers, who had never really had the pleasure of knowing her like he had; and, most of all, for his own sake. He had missed her so much, had missed her smile and her laugh, and how she had made him feel always at home and loved.

Still, he knew she was dead – there was nothing that could bring her back. Over the years, he had learned to accept that fact. He had never forgotten her, though. He honoured her memory every time he stepped into the cockpit of Thunderbird 1 at the beginning of a rescue. And thanked her every time for looking out for him and his brothers from the Beyond, when they all came back to the island in one piece.

She was dead – and here she was alive.

It was a dilemma, which was impossible to solve.

So he decided not to solve it. He would wait and see.

"I'm fine, father," he said, his voice rough.

His father's face split into a wide grin, immediately followed by a wince, as the skin over his bruise shifted.

"Sorry about that," Scott said truthfully.

"It's all right, son," Jeff said, resting his hand on Scott's shoulder. "You'd had quite a knock on your head. It must have confused you a bit, that's all."

Yeah, maybe it was the knock on his head. Maybe he was the problem. Maybe he was going crazy.

Feeling suddenly tired, he closed his eyes.

"Rest, son. Tomorrow, everything will be all right."

This was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep again.

Tbc

Poor Scott. And it's not going to get any better in the next chapter …

Review response:

Wow!!! I would never had thought I would get that much response. Thanks a bundle to anybody who had reviewed.

Regarding the whole 'Lucille/Joyce' issue: I know her name (and she, for that matter) was never actually mentioned in the TV show. As **Tikatu** pointed out (thank you), her name did come from a secondary source (which I haven't read – you wouldn't believe how difficult it is to find anything Thunderbird related here in Germany). As I wasn't sure if the name was canon or 'fanon', I decided to go with my own. If somebody can't stand 'Joyce', he's free to use the 'Find and Replace' function in your word processing software. I just liked the sound of it: Jeff & Joyce Tracy

I know that the 'Skiing accident' scenario was mentioned in the movie. Again, as there was no mentioning of how she died in the TV show, I thought, why not, and ran with it.

Another warning, I'll also go with the birth order Scott – Virgil – John – Gordon – Alan. That's the order I somehow remembered from when I watched the show some ten years ago, and only recently saw that there was a different order given on the DVDs.

**Fen:** To be honest, I didn't make a difference between dormant and extinct. Probably extinct. I can't see Jeff building the base of IR on a volcano that could break out any day. No plans for lava flows in this story.

**Andrewjameswilliams: **Good question. You will see.


	3. Facing the Facts

Fork in the Road

By Sapphire

Disclaimer in chapter 1

Part 3 – Facing the Facts

The morning sun filtered through the curtains and directly onto Scott's bed. Scott sat with his back leaning against the headboard, arms wrapped around his legs, his chin resting on his knees.

He'd been awake for over an hour now, thinking through his options.

The first possibility was that he was going slowly – or maybe not quite so slowly – crazy. His mother was alive, living with them on Tracy Island, only he didn't remember it. The way he remembered it, they had moved here about a year or so after she had died. His father had wanted to get away from all memories of her, though how that was supposed to work with five small reminders of her running around in the backyard had been beyond Scott.

Jeff Tracy also had started working on his plans for International Rescue back then, and the island, which had been in the family's possession for generations – though never settled – had been perfect. He had met Brains at a conference in Paris – or was it Geneva? Scott wasn't sure, but it didn't really matter – and had immediately seen the asset his bright mind would be to his dream. Scott had been just glad that his father had found something to keep himself busy.

He himself had followed his own career with the Air Force, knowing that the skills he learned there would one day be useful to International Rescue. When the time came to come back to Tracy Island, he had not hesitated for a second, and he had not regretted it for a minute ever since. He felt privileged and honoured working for IR – there was no job in the world he would rather do.

Only, in all this, Joyce Tracy did not figure.

So, if she was real, and he just didn't remember her, but remembered instead a life without her, what did that make him?

Crazy.

Only, he didn't feel crazy. At least not right now. He was pretty sure the drug used to calm him down had lost its potency, as the cotton feeling he had had before was gone.

In fact, he felt pretty much like he had always felt, though, he had to admit, a little bit confused. However, this was to be expected given the situation.

Option B was that he was all right, everything he remembered was correct, only that that woman was some kind of impostor who somehow had brainwashed his father -- and who knew who else -- into believing that she was the one she claimed to be. International Rescue had had its run-ins with mind control in the past after all. Scott wouldn't put it beyond the Hood, their archenemy, to pull off something like this.

However, what he – the Hood – or she – the false Joyce Tracy – hoped to gain from that whole charade was beyond Scott.

Except maybe, to get International Rescue out of business.

The last option he could think of was that he was suffering from some weird kind of amnesia. That he had forgotten somehow that his mother was still alive and all memories pertaining to that fact had somehow be altered. He had never heard about such a kind of memory loss, but who was he to say that it didn't exist?

Either option, there was nothing to be gained from running around screaming and making everybody look at him funny. He had to find out what the heck was going on, which option was the correct one. And to do this, he needed more information.

He just had to treat it like any other rescue mission: Go, find out what the situation was, and then act accordingly.

Having reached this conclusion, he realized that he was hungry. He hadn't eaten anything yesterday, and breakfast felt like a very good idea right now.

Unfolding his long legs, he got off the bed and into the bathroom for a quick shower. While shaving he took a long look at himself in the mirror. As far as he could tell, he looked just the same way he always had, except for a large Band-Aid on his forehead. Carefully he peeled it off to see a small gash where he had hit his head. More a scratch than anything, though it did hurt some when he probed it carefully. He had had much worse than that before.

He dressed casually, then headed for the door, hopefully ready to face the world, whatever the world would bring.

Just then there was a short knock. The door opened before he could say a word and a head topped by bright red hair popped inside.

"Morning, Scott," his younger brother Gordon grinned. "Ready for breakfast?"

At twenty-four, Gordon Tracy still had a freckled, youngish face that was simply unable to tell a lie to anybody he knew, so Scott had no difficulties to see that the grin was a little bit forced.

"Morning, Gordo," Scott replied lightly as if nothing at all was wrong. "More than ready. Point me towards the coffee."

Gordon relaxed visibly and together they made their way towards the villa's kitchen from where the aroma of fresh coffee, fried bacon and eggs drifted. Keeping in step with Gordon, Scott looked around, noting immediately small changes to the decoration of the house. Passing by the living room, he saw a portrait of the family that included Joyce, beaming proudly at her husband and the five young men arranged around them. The portrait of Lady Penelope in the gallery was missing, replaced instead with one of Joyce. The whole place was set up as if operation cover up was in place. No hint anywhere that this was in fact International Rescue's headquarter.

Three points to the 'you are the one who is crazy' option. This wasn't a good start.

In the kitchen, he was greeted by Kyrano, his father's manservant, who was preparing breakfast. Kyrano gave him a concerned look and a forced smile, but didn't say a word, only handing him a plate where he placed bacon and eggs just the way Scott like it.

"Good morning, Kyrano," Gordon piped up, as he picked himself a plate and waited for his share of breakfast.

"Good morning, Master Gordon, Master Scott," Kyrano replied timidly.

It seemed that his father had given out a warning to everybody to be very careful around Scott. A sensible precaution if Scott indeed had gone around the bend. That didn't mean he had to like it, though there wasn't really anything he could do.

"Good morning, Kyrano," Scott replied, acting as if he hadn't noted anything amiss.

Together he and Gordon carried their plates to the dining room. At the large table Jeff already sat together with his 'wife' and their youngest son, Alan. Scott tensed up when he saw Joyce, but tried to cover it up. Still, he wasn't going to sit next to her, instead putting down his plate at the other end of the table. Jeff frowned at that, but seemed to decide to let it rest for the moment.

"Morning," Scott greeted everybody, thus avoiding to have to address his 'mother' directly and dug into his breakfast after pouring himself a cup of coffee, basically ignoring everybody.

For a moment nobody spoke a word.

Then Alan piped up, "Did you really deck father, Scott?"

Trust it to Alan to bring the topic up. Twenty-one years old, he acted more often than not as if he was still fourteen. Except when on the controls of Thunderbird 3, the big space rocket they used for space rescues. Even Scott had to admit that there Alan was as responsible as anybody of them when they were on a mission.

The whole round held its collective breath, obviously expecting Scott to react badly to the questions. Everybody except, of course, Alan who looked like he had no idea why his father scowled at him like that.

Scott decided to act as if Alan's question was the most natural in the world.

"Nah, not exactly 'deck him', Alan. More like hitting him accidentally while flaying around wildly with my arms. I'm sorry, father," he apologized once again turning to his father. After all, he really did feel bad about hitting him.

"It's okay, son," Jeff accepted the apology. "No serious harm done. I'll be as good as new in no time."

Jeff rubbed his chin, wincing slightly when he touched the bruise there.

After that the breakfast continued mostly in silence, everybody clearly still uncomfortable. Scott observed his family and noted with dismay that everybody seemed to react to Joyce as if it was the most natural thing in the world that she was sitting there next to his father. He allowed himself to take a closer look at her and had to admit that for all intents and purposes, she did look and act like the mother he had lost so long ago. Small mannerisms he had all but forgotten came back to him, like the way she added so much milk to her coffee that the beverage was almost white, and how she cut up the toast into narrow stripes before dipping them into the egg yolk of her fried eggs.

Halfway through breakfast, Virgil showed up, sitting down next to Alan and Gordon. He, like the others, cast Scott a questioning look but didn't say a word instead digging into his breakfast with gusto. Virgil never had been a morning person and it was no use to engage him in a conversation unless he had had his coffee fix.

This left of the brothers John, the middle brother. Normally John would be up in Thunderbird 5, International Rescue's private space station, but given the situation of having seen no sign of IR so far, all bets were off. At the moment Scott didn't want to ask any questions but he filed John's absence away, to be investigated later.

Also notably absent was Grandma, who had moved to Tracy Island less than a year ago, but then Scott remembered that she and Tin-Tin, Kyrano's beautiful daughter, were together on a trip through Europe. Grandma Tracy, despite her advanced years, had still the heart for travel, so Tin-Tin had volunteered to come along to keep an eye on her. Not that grandma had minded. She loved the young woman like one of her own grandchildren and all were sure that when they would return there would be exciting tales and piles of shopping.

Of course, that was from his own memories, the memories that still told him that Joyce Tracy was dead, so he didn't know how much stock he could but on them.

Last on the list of missing persons was Brains. Even though Brains spent most of his days in one of the many labs, he usually made sure that he took breakfast together with the family. He was part of the family in a way. And Scott was sure that he had been on the island when he had taken that fall that started it all.

So, where was Brains?

Was there a Brains at all?

And without Brains, did International Rescue even exist?

There was still some bacon left on his plate, but suddenly Scott didn't feel hungry anymore. The food churned in his stomach and for a second he thought he might be sick. Too many things pointed to the fact that the last thirteen years of his life had been some kind of dream or something, that many of the things that he remembered were simply not true.

He pushed his chair away from the table and got up. For a moment at a loss at what to do, he stood frozen to the spot, looking at all the faces staring at him. Then he turned and ran out of the room.

"Scott," he heard his father call, but he ignored it

He had to find out if there was such a thing as International Rescue.

Or if he was totally and truly utterly mad.

ooooo

Instinctively, Scott aimed his steps towards Thunderbird 1, his beloved rocket plane that International Rescue used for reconnaissance purposes. There was probably no faster machine to be found on this planet. If pushed, she could make it from their base in the middle of the Pacific to Europe on the other side of the globe in less than one hour at a top speed of over Mach 20. Riding her was in his books the best thing about IR, next to saving lives, of course.

There were several ways to access Thunderbird 1's hangar, the fastest one through a hidden door panel in his father's study.

Scott was just about to enter the office when he felt a hand landing on his shoulder.

"What the matter with you, Scott?" Virgil asked, spinning his older brother around. He looked concerned, but at the same time angry enough to spit nails.

Scott shook off Virgil's hand, moving further into the room, only to be stopped once again by his brother's hand on his arm.

"Scott, talk to me. What is going on?"

This time, Scott felt, Virgil wouldn't let go without receiving an answer.

He turned, facing his brother. "I don't know, Virg. I think I'm going quite mad. I have to check something out."

"What are you talking about, Scott? Dad said something about you not knowing mom, but I don't understand. I want to help you."

Ah, good old reliable Virgil. He always had been the negotiator in the family, the one who went out of his way to smoothe ruffled feathers and calm ragged nerves.

"I don't understand it either. I ... I don't know what's wrong with me. Let me check this out, and then I might have some answers."

Virgil hesitated for a second, then nodded, released Scott's arm and stepped aside.

His father's office looked just like Scott remembered if, except again for the absence of Lady Penelope's picture. In its place hung a portrait of Joyce, smiling down at the desk.

Scott stepped up to his own portrait, reaching for the two wall lamps that flanked it. His fumbling fingers searched for the release switches that rotated the whole panel.

Nothing was there. Once again, he checked, in case he had missed the spot at his first try. He pulled on the lamps, but they were attached tightly to the wall, moving not a bit.

This proved it. There was no doubt anymore. Scott always had strongly believed in empirical proof and there is was.

He had gone crazy.

Moaning softly, he leaned against the wall, and then slid down, until he sat on the floor. He wanted to curl into a tight ball, locking out the shards of what was his life and never come back up again.

"Scott," Virgil knelt next to his brother, placing a concerned hand on Scott's knee. "Speak to me. Please."

"I've gone mad," Scott said in a whisper. "That's the only explanation. I'm totally mad."

"Scott. Why ...? What's going on? Please. Tell me."

"Everything here is wrong, Virg. Everything. Mom is alive. Brains is missing. All pictures of Lady Penelope are gone. And ... where is International Rescue? Nothing is like it used to be."

He looked up pleadingly to his brother who had listened to his growing list looking more and more confused.

"What ... who is International Rescue?"

That cinched it. So far, everything had been only empirical evidence that somehow could have been explained away in some way if he only tried hard enough. Mom was alive – she still could be an impostor. Brains was missing – hell, he might be working on something and forgot what time it was. Lady Penelope – who knows, maybe her portraits had been taken of for some cleaning. The lamp switches – maybe Dad had changed the arrangements but had forgotten to tell him. All explainable in a fashion.

But now his own brother and best friend was looking at him as he had in fact gone mad telling him that he didn't know anything about International Rescue.

That was the final proof he had needed.

He was mad.

He wrapped his arms around his chest, hugging himself. Slowly he began to rock back and forth as if this repetitive movement could somehow lock out the world around him. A tear started to travel down his cheek. He didn't know what to do.

Tbc

So, Scott has hit rock bottom. Don't know why I do that to the poor boy, but it's fun. Next chapter we'll go someplace else.

Reviews:

**Claudette**: Now that you seen the outside of the bedroom, what do you think?

**Race's Girl**: Lots of action in the later chapters, I promise. See review comments in chapter 2 for the big 'Mrs Tracy name' debate.

**Gismo**: The story is complete and I plan on posting a chapter a day. My beta is still working on the later parts, but she should be done soon. Personally I hate it when somebody starts posting a promising story, but never finishes it. That's why I promised myself never to start posting anything unless the story is done.

**rozzy07:** Answers are forthcoming in chapter 4 - Solutions, however, have to wait a little bit longer.

**Annica**: Grüße aus Frankfurt ... What gave you the impression that I'm a Scott fan? ;) What's not to love about him? With that great voice and his perfect looks ... Though I do love the other boys as well.


	4. In The Real World

Fork In The Road

By Sapphire

Disclaimer: see chapter 1

Part 4 – In the Real World

Same time but someplace else

A frozen silence had settled around the breakfast table. Virgil, Gordon, Alan and Jeff all looked at Scott, their mouths hanging open with almost identical expressions of shock on their faces. The centre of their attention just looked confused.

"What?" Scott asked, clearly not quite understanding why his family reacted in such a way.

Virgil was the first to find his voice again. "What do you mean with 'Where is Mom? You know as well as anybody here she's been dead for thirteen years."

'And that we don't speak about her, if we can avoid it', he added in his mind.

Joyce Tracy was a topic which was not spoken of in the Tracy Family. Even after thirteen years, they managed not to mention her, though she certainly was on their minds almost on a daily basis. Sometimes Virgil wished they would talk about her, but the few times he had brought her up, one look from their father had squelched that thought quickly. After some time he had just given up.

Scott tilted his head as if he was gauging if Virgil was trying to play a joke on him. But the expression on everybody's face soon persuaded him that this was – for once – not the case.

Pushing his chair back, he jumped up, his breakfast almost untouched. He put up his hands, as if he wanted to fend them off.

"I don't know what you all are playing at," he started, his voice a little shaky, "but I've got no clue what's going on here. Mom is alive. I've spoken to her just the other day. And where's the family portrait in the living room. It's gone! And who the heck are you?"

His voice had risen with every word and he basically screamed out the last question at a startled Brains, who had just entered the dining room from the kitchen. As he was talking, Scott had been taking small steps backwards, until he bumped with his back against a wall.

The family exchanged looks as they tried to understand what was going on, waiting for who would be the first to move in. Finally, Jeff got up and moved around the table towards Scott, who looked at him with wide eyes as his father came closer his hand held out in a placating gesture.

"Son, I don't know what's wrong, but you better try to calm down a little. Then we can start working on finding a solution."

Virgil wondered if Scott would bolt any minute. He couldn't remember if he had ever seen his big brother looking as scared and confused as this.

Scott, as the oldest, had always been the one to look out for his younger brothers. He was the rock they all could lean against. He had helped them out of more scraps than Virgil could remember. He was also an excellent field commander on a rescue, always calm and in control may the situation be as bad as could be. When Scott made a decision he stood by it, but if there was need to change it he was able to make a 180 degree turn at the blink of an eye without any regrets. Though this rarely happened for usually he was right the first time round.

The day before there had been a mild earthquake on the Island. After a quick headcount had revealed that Scott was missing, they had started searching for him. They hadn't been able to pick him up on his communicator watch, so they had spread out. Gordon finally spotted him lying unconscious in an underground cave which must have had opened during the quake. Together they got him out – one of the easiest rescues they've every head, as Alan put it after Scott was safe again – and got him back to the house and into the sick room where Brains checked him over. Besides a bump on his head there seemed to be nothing wrong with him.

Father had consulted with their doctor on the mainland, but since he was busy with other victims from the quake, which had been felt on all the other islands in the area, and Scott's case had been considered a mild one, it was decided to keep him on the island and just to observe.

Luckily, the quake hadn't caused any damage that required the Thunderbirds to go out.

According to dad, Scott had finally woken up during the afternoon. He seemed to be a little confused and complained about a major headache, but else seemed to be fine. Father gave him the pills the doctor had prescribed (the island's apothecary was well stocked and there had been no need to have anything flown in) and he went quickly back to sleep.

So far, nothing really to worry about. A small bump on the head was nothing that would put down a Tracy for long. Even when Gordon had picked him up for breakfast he had seemed pretty normal.

So, why did he react like this now? And where did he get that idea from that mom was still alive?

Father was now only a hand span away from Scott, moving an inch at a time. Scott regarded him with wide eyes, looking ready to turn and run any minute. Suddenly a loud beeping sound from the study interrupted the tableau.

The rescue alarm.

All eyes went to Jeff, waiting for instructions how to react to it. Normally they would all rush into the study, but with Scott as he was, the brothers weren't sure what to do.

Jeff hesitated only for a second.

"I promise you, we'll talk later, son. We'll find out what's going on," he told Scott in a low voice. Then he turned and walked with firm steps toward his study.

The Tracy brothers san Scott followed him.

When Virgil entered the study, John's portrait on the wall had already converted into the two-way communication system.

"... 300 miles off the Chilean coast. I've just got a call from the Coast Guard, telling me that there's no way they can get out there with that storm going on. At the moment the yacht is upside down and the crew managed to save themselves into the hull, but there's no saying how long the ship can stay afloat."

"Okay, John. We take over. Thank you."

With that, Jeff Tracy cut the communication with his middle son.

"Boys, you heard what's going on. Virgil and Gordon, you take Thunderbird 2 with pod 4. Alan, you take Thunderbird 1. Thunderbirds are go!"

ooooo

Even though the rescue went without a hitch, Virgil felt vaguely uneasy for the whole time. As far as he remembered, this had been his first rescue ever without Scott. Even though Alan did a good job at evaluating the situation and guiding him in the correct action from Thunderbird 1, Virgil couldn't deny that he missed Scott and his calming voice.

He also couldn't help to worry about his big brother. What was wrong with Scott? Why did he have the illusion that mom was still alive? Was it the knock on the head Scott had received when he had fallen into that cave? But then, Virgil had never heard about anything like that before.

Scott had followed them after all into the study Virgil had noted, his expression more and more confused. But that had been nothing to the look of pure shock on his face when Virgil had stepped up to the portrait of the tall moon rocket and flipped over as he went on his way to Thunderbird 2. For the whole duration of the rescue, Virgil had not been able to shake the memory of that look.

After they managed to pull the crew out of their ship, Virgil flew them to Santiago de Chile. Then he turned around and hoofed it back home at top speed.

Stepping back into the study together with Gordon, he found Alan and Brains already on one of the couches. Father sat behind the desk. Scott had pulled up a chair and sat next to the desk. He looked much calmer now, though still a long way away from the confident man Virgil knew so well.

Their father waved them to take a seat as well and they sat down together on the other couch.

After all were settled down, Jeff Tracy cleared his throat.

"We do have a problem," he announced. "This is not Scott."

Virgil felt his jaw hit the floor and judging from the expressions on his brothers' faces, he was not alone in his shock. Scott - or at least the man who looked and sounded exactly like his oldest brother - studied some spot on the carpet not looking up at anyone.

"And, of course, this is Scott."

"What now?" Alan asked. "Is he, or is he not Scott?"

Jeff sighed, though if this was because of the situation or because they didn't get it, Virgil couldn't say. Virgil agreed with Alan's statement, though.

"Let me rephrase this. This is not 'our' Scott?"

For a moment 'Scott' cast a look sideways to Jeff, then went back to the study of the carpet pattern.

"W...w...while you've b...b...been out on the rescue I ran some tests on 'Scott' and found that t...t...though he's genetically definitely Scott Tracy, h...h...his Wiebrecht Resonance Constant is off by f...f...five point seven pico-lambda," Brains explained.

"His what constant?" Gordon and Virgil asked in unison. For a second they grinned at each other then they got quickly serious again.

"T...t...the WRC is a constant which is an indicator to what dimension one belongs to. T...t...the fact that his factor is o...o...off by such a large amount indicates that he is f...f...from another dimension."

"Another dimension?" This time Gordon was faster than Virgil in asking the obvious question.

"Ruth Wiebrecht p...p...proofed 2046 that there is an infinite number of dimensions, universes if you want. E...e...each dimension however has its own resonance constant. S...s...o everybody and everything in one specific universe has the same Wiebrecht Resonance Constant."

"And Scott's constant is off by five point seven pico-lambda," said Alan.

"E...e...exactly," Brains said, beaming at the youngest Tracy.

For a couple of minutes nobody said a word.

"And that means ...?" Alan asked.

Jeff sighed. "That means that this is not Scott as we know him. While you've been out on the rescue, we've talked, and it looks like his memory is pretty much in line with what we know until the day your mother died." As always when Jeff talked about Joyce Tracy's death - which was rare enough - he had to swallow. However, he collected himself quickly and ploughed on. "But after that, it's different. In his world, your mother didn't die. And I never started International Rescue. In his world Scott is a commander in the US Air Force, currently home on leave. Virgil and Alan both work at Tracy Industries as engineers, Gordon is with WASP and John is still with NASA."

Finally, 'Scott' looked up from his carpet study. "You gave me quite a turn, Virg, when you did that vanishing behind the portrait thing. I thought somebody put me in a bad movie. Though this was nothing compared to seeing a rocket come out of the swimming pool."

Virgil had to grin at that. Though he was used to all those secret doors and passages to be found in the Tracy household, he imagined somebody who didn't know about them might be a little surprised. Especially, if he thought he knew they didn't exist.

He realized that he had somehow no problems swallowing Brains' explanation about parallel dimensions and that the 'Scott' sitting in front of him was in fact from another one. After all, it explained everything. For once why his brother had reacted the way he did. He imagined if he had been in 'Scott's' shoes, he would have some problems accepting the cloak and dagger set-up that was part of International Rescue. It also explained why though Scott was different, he was still the same somehow.

Besides, if Brains said it was the explanation, then who was he to doubt him?

"Okay, if this Scott is not our Scott, where is our Scott and how do we get him back? Nothing against you, 'Scott', but I'd rather have the Scott I know in the pilot seat of Thunderbird 1 than Alan any day."

"Hey," Alan protested, but was shushed down, when they all began to plan International Rescue's very first inter-dimensional rescue.

tbc

_See, there's an explanation for everything. But now, how to get Scott back where he belongs to ..._

_Next chapter is for some much needed comfort for poor Scott._


	5. Mother Knows Best

Fork In The Road

By Sapphire

Disclaimer are in chapter 1

Thanks again to Christine for allowing me to use the 'big, green, flying hippo' comparison. Yeah!!! FFN is back ....

Part 5 – Mother Knows Best

Back on the other Tracy Island

They brought him back into his room and into his bed. He didn't protest or do anything to hinder them. They could have moved a bit of furniture around for all the response he gave them. As soon as he was in his bed, Scott rolled onto his side with his back towards the door.

What did it matter anyway?

He was crazy, so his future was probably inside a nice padded cell, shot full of drugs to make sure he didn't attack any of his caretakers. Not the end he had envisioned, exactly, but probably the only solution for someone like him.

He heard them talking in the room, but didn't listen. His father tried to speak to him, but he didn't acknowledge him and after a while the oldest Tracy gave up and left him alone.

Though not all alone. He heard somebody settle down into a chair next to his bed. Somebody touched his back for a moment.

"I'm here for you, Scott, if you wanna talk or something," Virgil said, his voice hoarse, then he retrieved his hand again.

He had no idea how long he had lain there, when he heard his brother speak up again.

"Scott, tell me about this International Rescue. It sounds like it's really important to you and I would like to hear more."

For a moment, Scott considered ignoring him, but then he turned around and faced Virgil. He had always felt closest to Virgil somehow and they always had been best friends. They never had kept any secrets from each other. He trusted him like nobody else in the world.

"It's just a dream, that's all," he whispered his voice rough.

"No, Scott. I can't believe that. I think, at least to you, it's real and I would like to hear about it."

What was he to do? Scott already knew he was crazy, and he suspected his family had come to the same conclusion by now. What did it hurt to tell Virgil about it?

"We … we are International Rescue," he began, watching his brother closely. When he didn't recoil, or otherwise appeared repelled, Scott continued.

"It was father's dream really. He started it all together with a friend."

"Brains?" Virgil asked softly, obviously remembering that Scott had said that he was missing.

"Yes, Brains," Scott confirmed. "He's got more grey matter in his little finger than the five of us combined. Dad had the money and the ideas, and Brains made them real. Together they built the Thunderbirds, our rescue vehicles. Every time there's an emergency the locals can't cope with, we go into action.

"I fly Thunderbird 1, a quick reconnaissance plane, and am always first in a rescue zone. You usually follow with Thunderbird 2, the heavy carrier plane. She looks a little bit like a big, green, flying hippo, but boy, she's pulled our bacon out of the fire more than once. Thunderbird 4 is our submarine, Gordon's baby. She's small enough to be carried to a rescue zone by TB2. Then we also have Thunderbird 3, a real space rocket. Alan is flying her on a rescue, if he's not on shift up in Thunderbird 5, our space station. There we monitor all frequencies to be able to detect any emergency. That's usually John up there, though we all pull shifts.

"That's all there is, really. We go out and save people. It's what we do. We are the Thunderbirds."

"And I'm piloting a large, green, flying hippo?" Virgil asked incredulously.

Scott actually had to grin at his brother's face. "Well, she does look a little like a hippo. A pregnant one at that when loaded with one of her pods. But she's the best in what she does. You do love her, you know."

Virgil thought about that for a moment.

"This is weird," he said after a while, raking his fingers though his hair. "It sounds like it's so real to you."

Scott felt a stab in his heart when it was driven home to him once again that what he had thought was his reality was just a dream, a figment of his imagination. The short elevation from being able to talk about what he loved so much was swiped away and he fell back into the dark pit his life seemed to be now.

Turning away from Virgil, he locked out again the world that wasn't his any longer, ignoring the soft voice of his brother until Virgil finally gave up.

ooooo

Sometimes during the morning the door swished open again and somebody else stepped into his room.

"Virgil," Scott heard the soft voice of the woman who was his mother, "would you please leave us alone."

"You're sure?" Virgil asked. "Dad said he was a bit … aggressive when he woke up the first time."

"We'll be fine. Don't worry."

Scott heard the chair being pushed back and then the footfall of his brother leaving the room. With a soft thud the door closed and Scott was alone with the woman who looked and sounded so much like his mother. Who was his mother, even if he had no memories of her being alive for the last thirteen years.

He felt her near, but she didn't touch him, for which he was grateful. He lay there, tense like a coiled spring, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. He didn't know what he would do if he should feel her soft hands touch him.

When he had woken up the other day, she had stroked his hair, and he had to admit that it had felt good. It had resurfaced memories he had thought forgotten, things he had missed for so long.

Everybody agreed that Jeff Tracy had done a pretty good job raising his five boys, but as hard as he had tried, he'd never been able to replace their mother. Scott, who had been sixteen when Joyce had died, had probably coped the best of them all, even though he had missed her terribly for the first couple of years. But he had been already to college that year, being on an accelerated track, and during the half year before the accident had been living away from home.

It had been hard on all of them, but especially on the three youngest. Alan had cried himself to sleep for weeks on end, and John … for a while they thought they would loose John, too. Somehow, the twelve-year-old boy had thought that somehow it had been all his fault, as he had been closest to mom when the avalanche had hit. He thought he should have been able to save her and he blamed himself for being alive while their mother was dead.

Scott had tried his best to help them all and that had helped him in turn to cope with the terrible loss.

He remembered all this with crystal clarity – it was something one simply didn't forget. He could place dates and times to many events, which had happened in the last thirteen years. To the bad things like Gordon's hydrofoil accident, or Virgil's crash landing after Thunderbird 2 had been shot down. And there were the good things, like the many lives they had saved over the last two years International Rescue had been in operation. And how could he ever forget Gordon winning the gold metal, or the party John threw the day he was finally accepted into the astronaut corpse, or Alan winning the Tampas Bay race as the youngest driver ever?

Damn, he might be crazy, but he didn't feel like he was crazy.

Talking to Virgil had calmed him. Even though his brother didn't seem to remember the same things he did, he was still his brother. Virgil had reacted exactly the way he had expected him to react. All of them had. They didn't share his memories, but basically, they were the same people he had known all his life.

The only person he couldn't place was the one in the room with him.

He turned around, facing the chair Joyce was sitting in.

She returned his gaze calmly, but didn't say anything as Scott studied her.

Joyce Tracy was a tall, fit woman. At fifty-three years of age, she could have easily passed for thirty-five. Thin laugh lines crinkling the skin around her eyes were the only indicator of her age. She wore her blond hair short in a sensible but elegant cut and was dressed in a simple dress with a wide skirt. Her eyes were brown, the exact shade and form as Virgil's.

For all intents and purposes, she did look like the mother he'd known. A few years older, maybe, but pretty much else as he remember her from before her death.

"I do have a problem," Scott said finally. "I don't remember you. Or rather, I do remember you, but as being dead for quite a while."

Here, he had put it out in the open.

For a second she looked hurt, and Scott couldn't exactly blame her. It wasn't something people usually told their mothers. But then she took a deep breath, concentrating on the problem at hand.

"How did I die?" she asked her voice soft. Obviously, she had decided that in order to get to the bottom of the issue, she needed to know more.

"Skiing accident in Aspen, thirteen years ago. An avalanche hit you, Gordon and John. We managed to pull out the two boys, but it had been too late for you," Scott iterated, carefully controlling his voice. As hard as he tried to distance himself from the memories, they still hurt.

She thought for a moment then nodded. "I remember that avalanche. John broke his arm, but we got out. All of us."

"That's not how I remember it. I'm sorry. I don't know why I do. It's not that I wish you dead or anything like that. For thirteen years I whished it had been different, whished that you'd be alive."

Joyce sighed deeply. "What do we do now? I'm pretty sure I'm alive. You believe I'm dead. You can't have both ways."

Scott sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. "Maybe I'm crazy," he said softly.

Joyce shook her head. "No, I can't believe that. There must be a reason you think I'm dead. And I don't think it's that knock on you head from yesterday. There has to be a logical explanation."

"What? I've thought of everything and have no idea what can be wrong with me."

"Nobody can think of everything," Joyce said with a smile. "Not even you."

Scott had to admit she was right. There had to be an explanation he hadn't thought of. He wished Brains was here. He would find an explanation in no time.

"Are you ready to face the rest of the crowd?" Joyce asked. "I think we have to work together to find a solution."

Scott hesitated only for a moment then nodded. Accepting the hand Joyce held out to him, he got off the bed and together they left the room.

Tbc

_  
So, what do you guys think? Scott is getting better. I just couldn't have him an emotional wreck for the whole story._

_Next chapter will have more action, I promise. Rescue is on its way, but there's also new trouble to come. I just can have it easy, right._

_Sorry about the delay in posting this part. So much for one chapter per day. But who could have known that FFN was doing their big upgrade and shut down any submissions for over 48 hours._

_I didn't get any reviews either, which is also kind of frustrating, especially as I was interested to hear what other think of my solution to Scott's dilemma._


	6. Gateway

Fork In The Road

By Sapphire

Disclaimer is in chapter 1

Part 6 – Gateway

Tracy Island – IR dimension

The small cave was fairly crowded with Brains, Virgil, 'Scott' and Jeff and all the equipment Brains had brought along. As there had been not enough room for Alan and Gordon to fit in as well, the two brothers had to wait outside, which hadn't made them very happy.

It had been only logical to pinpoint the cave where Gordon had found Scott as the most likely location for the transition point from one dimension to the other. Brains had done some measurements and it hadn't taken him long to find the place. For the naked eye, the wall that was the transition point looked like any other wall in the cave, but Brains had set up some of his gadgets and now the wall glowed in a weird iridescent light.

Though everybody was very careful not to touch the wall, they had thrown a couple of stones at it. Virgil had to admit it had been a pretty strange sight when the stones simply disappeared, causing not even a ripple on the surface of the wall.

After discussing their plan, it had been decided that Virgil was to be the one to go into the other dimension, find their Scott and bring him back. Alan and Gordon had naturally protested, as they wanted to come as well, but in the end they had conceded. Virgil had a time limit though. If he wasn't back in three hours, Gordon and Alan would both come after him.

The other Scott would go with Virgil, but remain close to the cave. As they didn't know the situation on the other side, they thought it best if only one Scott was seen. Brains didn't believe it would be a problem if the two actually met each other, but still was in favour to keep the contact as brief as possible. Virgil was also to try to get out of his own counterpart's way.

'Scott' had proven to be fairly reasonable after he had overcome his first shock. Deep down, he was 'Scott' after all. With a different career maybe, but essentially he was the same person they all knew. He might not know anything about International Rescue, but where it counted he was their oldest brother and the man they all could rely on in a bind.

Virgil checked his gun one last time and then put it back in the hidden holster at the small of his back. Though he had no intention to shoot any of his family, he had deemed it better to be prepared for all eventualities. The gun was loaded with small knockout pellets only.

"You're sure we're going to the right dimension, Brains?" he asked, trying to cover up his nervousness while watching the wall with trepidation.

"A…a…absolutely sure, Virgil. I…I…I measured the Wiebrecht Resonance Constant three t…t…times."

Virgil turned to Brains. "I don't doubt you, Brains. I'm just a bit nervous, that's all. First time alter all I make a trip to another universe."

"It's not all it's cracked to be," 'Scott' remarked off hand with a smile. "What are we waiting for? I want to go home."

Jeff placed a hand on his second son's shoulder. "Be careful, Virgil. And bring Scott home."

"I will, father."

And before he could change his mind, Virgil stepped towards the wall and through.

ooooo

In the other place

The family had gathered in the lower living room. The room had only three walls, the fourth open to the pool deck. On both sides of the swimming pool was an area with a cultivated garden, which provided some of the fresh food for the household. Beyond the pool, the view was open to the ocean, glittering in the bright midday sun.

Nobody was paying attention to the beautiful vista, though.

Scott found himself as the centre of attention as his mother explained what they had talked about earlier.

"Maybe it would be better we get a doctor involved," Alan said thoughtfully. "It might be something medical. You were out for almost a day after that fall after all."

Jeff shook his head. "I would like to leave that as a last resort. If we take this outside the family, there's no saying who might hear about this. Scott's career would be over for sure."

"I feel fine," Scott said. "It's just this memory thing. Maybe I'm crazy, I don't know, but I do feel fine."

"I don't think you're crazy," said Joyce. "You don't act crazy."

"Yeah, and clobbering dad is normal behaviour to you?" Alan murmured, but everybody ignored him.

Scott was struck again by how everybody acted just the way he was expecting him to. Father was for keeping it all in the family and Alan was making remarks that nobody listened to. Virgil and Gordon were both paying attention, but as they had nothing to say at the moment, they held their peace.

He felt himself relax.

Suddenly, a high whining sound cut through the sounds typical of the tropical island. Scott looked up and saw two high-speed boats closing in on the island.

"What the …?" Jeff got up and moved to the porch.

Scott followed and saw how the boats landed on the beach and a half a dozen men jumped out, all carrying large guns. They started to run towards the house.

This was definitely not good.

"Boys, hide," Jeff Tracy commanded in a cold voice. "Joyce, you go with Gordon."

"What about you?" Joyce asked, fear evident in her voice.

"I'll find out what this is about. They won't hurt me."

"Jeff…" she started again, but was cut off by her husband.

"I said move!"

His tone of voice didn't allow for any more protest.

Everybody scrambled. Scott kept himself close to Gordon and Joyce. He wasn't too sure about the lay of the house, so he thought it to be better to stay close to one who knew it. Of course, in the house he thought he knew there were hundreds of passages one could hide for hours, but in this house he wasn't sure about anything. But then, on the island he knew, nobody would have come within a ten miles radius without triggering five kinds of alarms. They also had more than enough defenses to keep anybody away.

Gordon was heading to the back of the house where the kitchen and the storage area was located. As they were walking through the kitchen, Scott eyed the knife block on the counter. He stopped, pulling out the largest knife.

"Gordo, do we have any other weapons in the house?"

"No, there was never any need for them," was his reply. "You know, Dad doesn't like them. He even makes us leave our guns back at the base whenever we come to visit."

That was a slight deviation from the father he knew. Jeff Tracy had taught all his sons – with varying degree of success – how to handle a gun. They carried weapons on their rescues and had had to use them often enough. Of course, they only used them to defend themselves.

He pulled a knife for himself, but stopped his mother when she was about to get one too.

"Do you know how to defend yourself, mom?" he asked earnestly. "You never got any formal training."

"I will do what I have to do," she replied, then pushed Gordon's hand aside and pulled herself a knife as well.

Scott actually would have rather seen her without a weapon, but it was clear from her expression she wouldn't give up her knife without a fight. Those men had guns. There wasn't much one could do with just a knife against guns. If they should be caught, it was far more likely the thugs wouldn't harm them if they believed they were not armed.

With a sigh he conceded. If there was one thing he remembered from his mother, it was that she could out-stubborn a mule if she wanted to.

"Just be careful with it, mom," he said.

"What do those people want anyway?" he then asked Gordon, as they left the kitchen through the back door.

"I'm not sure," Gordon replied. "They might be modern day pirates. There were some reports of pirate activity in the area, but I thought they had caught those guys weeks ago. WASP is patrolling the islands looking for nests, but so far no luck. I took two days leave because of mom's birthday, but I'm supposed to be back tomorrow helping them out."

Mom's birthday? Scott did a quick calculation in his head and realized that yesterday had indeed been his mother's birthday. He had all but forgotten about it. The family didn't pay that much attention to that date anymore, though father would still fly to the mainland where Joyce Tracy's was buried and put some flowers on the grave every year. One or two of his sons would usually come along, but Scott tried to avoid being one of them. He always felt uncomfortable there.

This at least answered one question he had had at one point. If there was no such thing as International Rescue here, how come that most of his brothers were on the island? Why was he here, for that matter, if he was working for the Air Force? The military wasn't really great on giving their personnel long periods of leave.

"Sorry, mom, I forgot your birthday," he turned to his mother.

Joyce smiled. "It's all right. You had other things on your mind. It's not your fault."

There was a crashing sound coming from the kitchen. Joyce was about to turn back, but Gordon grabbed his mother at the arm and pulled on. "We have to go, mom."

Somewhere behind them, gunfire erupted.

Tbc

_ So, how's that for a little bit of action? Virgil to the rescue, pirates on the island, mayhem to follow._

Reviews:

Yeah, I get reviews again happy dance (I know it was FFN's fault, but still, I missed them sniffle)

A few hours later: grumpf FFN is down again, can't post, no reviews, life is not fair.

**Claudette:** The reason Scott hasn't thought about an AU is that he's a pilot first, and scientist much later. The way I set the whole thing up, is that it's a pretty obscure branch of science to begin with. Brains, of course, would have heard of it, he knows those things. Isn't technobabble wonderful wink (though I just realized the other day that a resonance is a frequency and thus has to be measured in Hertz, not Lambda. Lambda is for wavelength. I should have known that. Ah well)

Sorry about the lack of John. I wanted to keep the cast of characters as small as possible, hence grandma's and Tin-Tin's absence, and John being shoved off to NASA. Still, I almost forgot that Kyrano was still running around on the island on one point. But John lovers rejoice, the fic I'm working on right now, will be very John-centric.

Well, yes, you've hit on a weak point in the story. Why does Tracy Island looks pretty much the same in both dimensions and why does the family live there in the AU reality? No reason really, except that I needed it to be that way grin. I hoped to 'lighten the disbelieve' by having the island in the possession of the Tracy family for a long time, just never settled. I know that's not really cannon, but then I haven't heard anything to the contrary.

What caused the swap between the universes? My money is on some Weird Inter-dimensional Swirly Plot Device (TM)

**Knottaclue** I'm glad I've managed to bring Joyce across as likable. She was the toughest to write, as I didn't know much about her. Used to be married to Jeff – check. Had five sons – check. Is dead – check. That's about it.

**Jules47:** Yeah, the boys depend quite a bit on Brains, don't they. Of course, he can find a solution. He's Brains after all!

**Gismo:** uuhh, thanks blush I haven't written anything in quite a while, and I'm glad to hear that I'm still able to string together a couple of words. Of course, I would be lost without my beta reader. You wouldn't believe the stuff she spots – though even she's not infallible. Just re-read chapter 4 and this big, blaring mistake jumps at me. It should have been: 'one of the easiest rescues they've ever had' not 'one of the easiest rescues they've every head' groan I take the blame, after all I wrote that in the first place sigh

**andrewjameswilliams** Who says that the Non-IR's will find out that the Scott they have right now, is not their Scott? But then, maybe they will … wink

And, what are you doing reviewing this? Go on writing 'Thundershock'!!! shoo I can't wait for it to finish, so I finally can read it (I have this little problems with WIPs, but I've taken a couple of peeks at your story, and what I've seen so far, I really liked)


	7. Through the Looking Glass

Fork In The Road

By Sapphire

Disclaimers are in chapter 1

Part 7 – Through the Looking Glass

Stepping through the gateway into the other dimension was strangely anticlimactic. Virgil had expected some kind of light show, the feeling as if his atoms would be disassembled and reassembled (not that he was too sure how this was supposed to feel, really), but in reality it was simply like walking through a doorway. One step he was with his family and the next he was in an empty cave.

He turned just in time to see 'Scott' appear. Virgil shook his head at the picture of him stepping through the apparently solid wall. This was too weird for words.

He took a deep breath. "Okay, you wait here, and I will come back with our Scott as soon as possible."

'Scott' nodded, then settled down on a convenient rock. "I should have brought something to read," he said with a grin. "Good luck to you."

"Thanks."

Climbing out of the cave wasn't too difficult and in no time he saw daylight. He took a second to orientate himself then he turned towards the house and started walking. It felt weird to be here, knowing that this wasn't the same Tracy Island he had lived on for more than ten years. It pretty much looked exactly like his home, and he had to tell himself to pay attention to any differences.

Tracy Island as he knew it was a small tropical island with an extinct volcano in the centre. Jeff Tracy had gone to extreme lengths to hide the fact that is was International Rescue's headquarters, so the house built against the Western flank of the volcano looked for all intents and purposes like the home of an -- albeit eccentric -- billionaire and his five sons. Only when one managed to break though the guise one could see the real Tracy Island: the hangars with their powerful crafts, the many passages and laboratories. Those wouldn't exist here, but from 'Scott's descriptions the house and everything in it pretty much looked the same in both dimensions.

After a few minutes, Virgil finally reached the house. His first order of business was to find out where everybody was, then locate Scott and get him out.

There was a raised boardwalk that led along underneath the windows of the private rooms of each of the brothers. Virgil climbed on it and moving stealthily, he took a peek in each room. All of them were empty.

He was about to head around the house, aiming for the open living room, when he suddenly heard gunfire. Instinctively he hunkered down, waiting.

When the gunfire wasn't repeated, he pulled his own gun and started to walk carefully towards the front of the house where the gunfire had come from. Reaching the corner, he stopped, looking around it quickly then pulling back again.

In the second he had looked, he had seen three dark-haired men surrounding a fourth man who was sitting on one of the sofas with his hands tied behind his back. This fourth man was his father. One of the other three held a gun to his head, while his companions also made threatening gestures with their weapons.

Virgil leaned against the wall, thinking furiously. His mission was to find Scott and bring him back home. He knew that, and he fully intended to do so. But seeing three men threatening his father – or more accurately the man who in this dimension would be his father – wasn't something he just could let go.

Who were these people? What did they want here?

Actually, the answer to that question wasn't too difficult. Jeff Tracy was a very rich man. This was the same in Virgil's home dimension and in this parallel dimension. So it stood to reason that they wanted money. Lots of it.

There was a good chance, that if 'Jeff' would do as those people wanted, no harm would come to him. Waving their guns and shooting a couple of warning shots was just part of the pattern people like this used to intimidate their victims so they would be more compliant to their wishes. Killing Jeff Tracy would gain them nothing.

'Jeff' should be relatively safe, really.

So logically, he should just let it be, try to locate Scott and get out of here as soon as possible.

Only it went against all of his principles.

He had to do something.

Before he was even really aware of it himself, he had picked up a stone and thrown it towards on of the bushes in the garden to the left. As the stone passed through the foliage it caused a noise almost as if somebody was passing through. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book, but then, hey, why not, it usually worked.

Virgil chanced another peek and saw how the leader gestured to one of his people to investigate.

With a feral grin, Virgil freed himself from the wall of the house and moved perpendicular to it towards the backside of the garden.

The man sent to investigate came from the other side, calling out as he went, "Come out or I'll shoot."

Not very original, but he didn't need to be with his gun held out. Virgil noted that the man had a Spanish accent.

He made, of course, no sound, as the man finally decided to come further into the garden, pushing leaves aside with his gun. The man called several times for him to give up, but Virgil had no intention to comply.

Virgil waited until the man was well out of sight of the house. He was hiding behind a tall tree when he saw the man enter a small clearing. Aiming quickly, he fired one of the knockout pellets. The man turned at the muted sound of the gun, but couldn't call out or bring his own gun to bear, as the pellet did its job. Like a puppet whose strings were cut, he crumpled to the ground, out cold.

Carefully, Virgil moved over to where the man lay and checked him over. As expected, the strong drug in the pellet had rendered him unconscious in a heartbeat. They were one of Brains' many developments, originally used only by International Rescue, but had now been filtered through Tracy Industries to be used in riot control. The man would sleep for twelve hours and wouldn't even have a headache when he woke up. With any luck, this would be in a nice cozy prison cell.

One down, at least two more to go.

This would be fun, Virgil grinned to himself.

He picked up the other man's gun and moved back towards the house.

Tbc

_Short chapter, I know, but the next one will be longer. _


	8. Two Scotts

Fork In The Road

By Sapphire

Disclaimer is in chapter 1

Part 8 – Two Scotts

Joyce struggled to get back to the house, but Scott and Gordon each held one of her arms, pulling her towards the jungle.

"Let me go," she hissed, but both brothers refused to let go.

"Come, mom," Gordon almost pleaded. "We have to hide."

"Your father…," she started, but Scott interrupted her.

"He will be fine. Those guys are after money, nothing else. I'm sure those were only warning shots. Dad will be fine."

Finally, Joyce accepted the help of her sons and followed them down a small path cut through the jungle.

They had come maybe five hundred yards, when they heard somebody else coming from up ahead. Scott and Gordon pulled their mother into the bushes, hunkering down behind some large leaved plant.

The sound of running feet came closer, until they saw a dark-haired man turning around a corner in the path.

It was a _very_ familiar looking man.

"Scott!" Joyce couldn't help calling out.

Scott – that was the one who was crouched down next to her – couldn't exactly blame her. He stood up, forgetting that they were supposed to hide.

There on the path directly in front of them, stood an exact copy of himself. Same dark hair, same eyes, same dimples, same everything. Even the small cut on their foreheads from the fall into the cave the other day was identical. The only difference was his clothing.

The other Scott had stopped and tried to peer into the gloom of the forest.

"Mom?" he called softly.

Joyce stepped back onto the path, followed by Scott and Gordon.

"Scott?" she said, looking confused from one Scott to another. Gordon mirrored her look of utter confusion.

The newcomer saw Scott and his eyes widened. "Wow, this _is_ weird."

Scott swallowed. "You can say that again. What's going on here? Who _are_ you?"

The other Scott grinned. "I'm you. And you are me. Brains had this long explanation about parallel dimensions and such, but he'd better explain when you're back."

Scott only registered that the other him had said 'Brains'.

"You know Brains?!?," he exclaimed grabbing the other man at the arm. For a moment he had forgotten about the danger they were in. This other Scott knew Brains. And if the other him knew Brains and he really existed, than he wasn't crazy after all, and everything was well. Scott didn't know if he ever had felt so relieved in his life.

"Yeah, I do. To make a long story short, there are an infinite number of parallel dimensions. During that earthquake, you and I swapped places. Brains figured it out, and now your Virgil came over with me to get you back. I was supposed to wait in the cave, but then I heard the shooting and had to investigate."

Parallel dimensions. Wow, that was a lot to swallow.

But there were more pressing matters. "You said my Virgil is here as well?"

"Yes, he headed for the house to find you. What is going on there? What is that about the shooting?"

Joyce and Gordon had finally come over their surprise at seeing two Scotts standing there, and rushed to bring the other Scott up to date.

Scott saw that the other Scott took his mother in his arms, giving her a quick hug. He whispered something into her ear, but couldn't hear what he was saying. As it really wasn't his business, he didn't pry.

"Okay," he took control. "Is Virgil armed?"

'Scott' nodded. "He mentioned something about a knockout gun. I wasn't too happy at first that he brought a gun over, but in retrospect, it seems like it was a good idea after all."

Good. That meant Virgil would be able to defend himself. Knowing him, his younger brother wouldn't just ignore a situation like this. He would try to help.

Scott wished he had a way to contact Virgil. But his watch had been smashed when he had fallen into that cave, and anyway, without Thunderbird 5 as a relay station, it wouldn't work.

"Good. Gordon, you bring mother to someplace safe. Scott and I will head back and try to locate Virgil. Knowing him, he's already working on reducing the numbers of those pirates. This means he should have some extra weapons we can use."

"But…" Gordon started to protest, but 'Scott' cut him off.

"Scott is right. You protect mom. We can handle this."

Gordon looked from one identical brother to the other as if he wanted to protest, but then nodded, though clearly not happy.

"You know it's not fair having two of you bossing me around," he said, as he took Joyce's arm and started to move down the path.

Obviously, Joyce wasn't happy about the situation herself, but saw the wisdom in their plan and followed her second youngest son.

"You two be careful," they heard her say, as she rounded the corner in the path.

ooooo

The two Scotts aimed their steps back to the house. They hadn't come more than two hundred yards when they heard a sound coming from up ahead. Immediately they split up, hiding to either side of the path. A second later, a man came into view. He was holding a gun.

Scott and 'Scott' looked at each other through the foliage. Thinking the same thing, they had no problem coming up with a plan on the spot.

'Scott' made to move a few leaves and the man on the path looked to the left.

"Hey, come out of there," he yelled, pointing his gun into the greenery.

"Please, don't shoot," 'Scott' called back, his voice sounding sufficiently subdued. He made a big show of working his way out of the foliage, making as much noise as possible.

Under the cover of that noise, Scott also made his way back to the path, his knife ready in his hand. He didn't feel comfortable to attack a man with just a knife, especially when that man had a gun in his hands. But it had to be done, and so he would do it.

'Scott' was now on the path, holding his hands in the air, eyeing the gun in the man's left hand with obvious fear.

"Please, I will do whatever you want," he whined as if he were scared half to death.

The man's concentration was fully on 'Scott'.

Scott came from behind, reaching with his left arm around and over the man's arms, pressing them down. With his right he placed the knife at the man's throat.

"Drop the gun," he whispered into the man's ear.

The man, feeling the cold steel pressing against his throat, did as he was told. 'Scott' wasted no time to pick up the gun and cover him, as Scott stepped back and out of reach.

The two men exchanged grins.

"We need to tie him somehow," 'Scott' said, looking at the stranger with calculating eyes.

Scott nodded. "We also should gag him, so he can't warn his friends."

"Good idea."

Waving with the gun, 'Scott' directed the stranger off the path and towards a tall, out of sight palm tree. They used his belt and shoelaces to tie him down and his shirt to gag him. After they were satisfied that the man wouldn't get away on his own or call for help, they returned to the path.

"How good a shot are you?" 'Scott' asked, studying the gun he was holding.

"I'm so-so to be honest. I did pass the test, but that's about it. What about you?"

'Scott' snorted. "Same here. Give me a plane to fly any day, but shooting … it's just not really my thing."

They grinned at each other.

"You should have a go on Thunderbird 1 one day. _That_ is flying," Scott said, as they turned their steps back towards the house.

"Hmmm," the other 'Scott' said noncommittal. "You think we can visit each other's world once this is over? I wouldn't mind taking a shot at that bird of yours. How fast is she going anyway?"

Scott didn't need any prompting to talk about his beloved rocket plane.

Now that there was a logical explanation to the whole situation, all the tension of the last two days fell off him. Okay, walking next to an identical copy of oneself wasn't exactly normal, but at least he now knew that what he had remembered as his life was in fact true. He loved the life he was living, loved to work for International Rescue, loved the excitement, the danger and the plain good feeling when he and his brothers were saving lives around the world.

He believed that if he had dreamt it all up, as he had thought for a while and there would have been no International Rescue, he would have somehow learned to live with it as well. Was it in this dimension or back in his own, his family was still his family. He knew they would have helped him to put his life together. But he also knew that a big chunk of who he was would have been missing forever.

They reached the back door to the kitchen and keyed it open. The room seemed to be empty, so they stepped inside, weapons at the ready.

"Dad was in the lower living room when those goons showed up. Maybe we should head there?"

'Scott' shook his head. "No, he should be safe for now. But there're still a couple of them searching the place, if the one we caught is any indication. It would be better to take care of them first."

Scott thought for a moment, but then nodded. "Okay. Let's head for the bedrooms then."

A sudden crashing sound made them whirl toward the storage area to the left of the kitchen. There were a couple of rooms there: a large walk-in freezer and some dry storage rooms. With the island as remote at it was, they usually bought food in bulk once a month and needed lots of space to store it.

'Scott' with the gun took the lead, the other Scott only a step behind.

Suddenly a blond head popped up from around the corner.

'Scott' exhaled deeply. "Alan. What are you doing back there?"

"Playing hide and seek. What did you think, Scott?" The youngest Tracy came in full view.

As he caught sight of his oldest brother and one who looked identical to his oldest brother, his eyes grew as wide as saucers and his mouth dropped open.

"Holy cow!"

He blinked, obviously believing he was having hallucinations. But as he opened his eyes, there were still two Scotts there.

"What …? How …?"

"We'll explain later," 'Scott' stepped in. "Have you seen any of those goons searching the house?"

It still took a moment for Alan to get his voice back, but then he reacted to his big brother's voice of authority. A grin spread over his face.

"Yep. He's back there," he pointed over his shoulder. "He must have had a run-in with a frying pan, because he's not talking."

Now the two Scotts could see that Alan was holding a large, heavy frying pan in his hand.

"You clobbered him with a pan," Scott noted impressed. "Is he still alive?"

"I don't know. I heard you in the kitchen and had no time to check yet."

They all moved into the storage room where one of the pirates was sprawled on the ground. A thin trickle of blood was running down his face, but he seemed to be breathing all right. Scott still checked for a pulse and found its steady beat without problems.

"We could lock him in here," he proposed.

"Where is his gun?" 'Scott' asked Alan.

Alan dove behind one of the shelves, pulling out the goon's gun. "He dropped it when I hit him," he explained, clearly pleased with himself. As he had every right to be.

"Do you know how to handle a gun?" Scott asked, reaching for the weapon. He knew his Alan could handle a gun – in fact he was the best shot of the brothers – but wasn't so sure about this version of Alan. He didn't even know what this Alan was doing for a living. Though Scott was sure whatever it was, it had something to do with very fast cars.

Alan nodded, looking insulted. "You know I do, Scott," he said, retaining the hold on the gun. "Or are you maybe not Scott?" he asked, suddenly apprehensive. "Why are there two of you?"

They explained the situation to him as quickly as possible, as they locked the storage room with the bad guy inside.

"This is weird," he exclaimed, after they headed back to the kitchen. "Two of you. As if one oldest brother wasn't enough. How am I going to keep you apart?"

"Believe me," 'Scott' said, "it's at least as weird to us."

tbc

_As you can see, even without 'real' weapons, the Tracy boys know how to handle bad guys. The pirates have no idea what's coming at them._

_The next chapter is the one where Virgil gets … well, you got to read it ;)_


	9. Showdown

Fork In The Road

By Sapphire

Disclaimer is in chapter 1

Part 9 – Showdown

Virgil had managed to get one more of the goons when the leader had sent out his second companion after the first one had not returned from the garden. He was now sleeping peacefully next to his partner, knocked out with yet another of the pellets.

Now Virgil waited crouched behind a couple of large potted plants, watching the leader demanding to know from Jeff where his men had disappeared to. He was growing more and more agitated, waving his gun around threateningly.

Jeff was sitting on the sofa, his hands still tied behind his back, trying desperately to calm the leader down, claiming that he had no idea where the other men could be, or where his family had gone hiding.

"When I saw you coming, I told them to hide. You can have anything you want from me, just leave my family alone."

But the man was not in the mood to be placated.

Virgil thought about what he could do. He had gathered from what he'd overheard that there were more than the three modern day pirates he had seen so far, though how many exactly, he wasn't sure. More than two, but probably less than five.

With the arrival of the pirates, Jeff had told his family to hide. Where, Virgil didn't know. Back on his own Tracy Island he would have been able to make a pretty good guess, but here all bets were off. So backing off and searching for them was probably not a good idea. He would waste too much time, and then he didn't even know if he would run into one of the bad guys before he found any of the family.

On the other hand, just taking a pot shot at the leader wasn't a good option either. As erratically as he was waving his gun around, Virgil couldn't guaranty that the moment he hit him, no shots would go off and hit his father. Well, not _his_ father, really, but close enough that he didn't want it to happen.

"They are out there, si," the leader now yelled. "They are waiting for me."

"My family is hiding. They are not here."

"I don't believe you. I know they are here. Listen," he yelled to the room, "if you want to see your daddy unhurt, you better come out."

Shit!

The goon was now holding the gun to Jeff's head, the finger on the trigger.

"I will count to three. One, two …"

Shit, shit, shit!

Virgil could not tell if the man was bluffing or not. But he could not risk it.

Quickly he stuffed his gun between the plants, together with the guns he had taken from the men he had knocked out. Then he stood up, raising his hands to shoulder level.

"I'm here," he called out. "I give up. Please, don't hurt him."

An evil grin spread over the goon's face as he now pointed his gun at Virgil.

"I knew I was right. You cannot fool me."

Then, without any warning, he pulled the trigger.

ooooo

The two Scotts and Alan were heading up the flight of stairs leading to the upper level of the house when a shot rang out from the lower living room, followed a fraction of a second later by a second shot.

Without hesitation, they all scrambled back down the stairs towards the wide double door leading to the half-open room.

The sight that presented itself took their breaths away.

On one side Virgil was sprawled on his back, bleeding profusely from a wound on his shoulder. On the other side of the room stood another Virgil, holding a gun with faint wisps of smoke coming still from the barrel and an expression of utter shock on his face.

For one terrifying moment, Scott thought Virgil had shot his counterpart, but then he saw another one of the goons lying on the floor in front of the sofa. Blood was pooling around him. A gun lay next to his hand, and Scott realized that one Virgil had shot the guy who in turn had shot at the other Virgil.

Only Virgil had been too late.

Jeff, his hands tied behind his back, was struggling to get up from the sofa and to his son on the ground.

Somehow Scott knew without a doubt that the Virgil who was wounded was _his _Virgil, the one from his own dimension. He didn't know how he knew. He simply knew.

He rushed over, falling to his knees next to his brother.

"Virgil!" he called, while he tried desperately to staunch the flow of blood. He wasn't paying attention to any of the others, his concentration fully on his wounded brother. "Virg."

But Virgil was out cold.

With great care and shaking fingers, he searched for his brother's pulse, while pressing down on the shoulder wound with his other hand.

He couldn't say how relieved he was, when he found the heartbeat fluttering against his fingertips.

Next, he checked for breathing. To his horror, he couldn't find any sign of Virgil's chest rising or falling. Holding his ear next to Virgil's mouth, he didn't feel any respiration.

Damn. Damndamndamn.

All Tracy boys knew how to perform CPR. They had done it countless times and had saved many lives this way. But Scott couldn't recall an instant where he had performed it on one of his brothers.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to detach himself from the fact that this was Virgil, his little brother.

It didn't work very well.

He lifted Virgil's chin, opening the airways. Then he pinched the nose closed, covering Virgil's mouth with his own. Concentrating, he gave two slow, full breaths, checking at the same time if Virgil's chest was rising or not. It was, so he gave two more breaths.

Suddenly Virgil coughed, his body convulsing. Scott held him down and after a moment his brother's eyes fluttered open.

"Scott?" he rasped weakly.

"Yes, junior, it's me," Scott replied with a forced grin.

"Good, then I found you," Virgil grinned back.

Virgil closed his eyes again and drifted off to sleep. Almost frantic, Scott checked again, but Virgil was breathing easy now, his pulse, though not exactly strong, steady.

Alan showed up with a First Aid box. Giving him a grateful smile, Scott pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting away the clothing around the wound.

"Could you get me some water?" he asked, calmer now.

Working on his brother, he became only slowly aware of the activity around him.

The other 'Scott' had freed Jeff and had started to explain everything to him, while they hovered close to where Scott was working. The older Tracy had clearly some difficulties to understand what was going on. But with the proof before his very eyes – namely two copies each of two of his sons – there was nothing for him to do but to accept the story 'Scott' was telling him.

"What about the other pirates?" he asked, after 'Scott' had finished his tale.

"We got one on the path behind the kitchen and Alan clobbered one in one of the storage rooms," 'Scott' said.

"I've got one in the roundhouse," 'Virgil' said, his voice flat. He looked still pretty shocked. "That's where I got the gun." He looked at the weapon in his hand as if he had forgotten he was still holding it. He stepped towards the couch table and placed the gun there gingerly, almost as if he was expecting it to explode any moment.

"That means two are still missing," 'Scott' counted off.

"They're back in the garden," Virgil said, his voice low but strong. "They'll be out for a good while."

Scott, who had concentrated on Virgil's shoulder, had not noted that his brother had opened his eyes again. Before he could stop him, Virgil tried to put his good arm under him and push himself off the ground.

"No you don't," he admonished him, holding him back.

He hadn't needed to bother. With a groan Virgil fell back.

"Ouch, that hurts."

"I don't know what you expect. In case you haven't noticed, you've been shot." But there was no real reprimand in Scott's voice. He was just too relieved to see Virgil awake.

"Would you help me up, Scott?" Virgil begged. "It's undignifying lying here on the ground."

Scott hesitated, but then relented. He put his arm around Virgil's good shoulder and helped him into a sitting position.

"You're okay?" he asked in a whisper when he heard Virgil hiss in pain.

"I'm fine," his brother said. He was breathing hard. "Just give me a moment."

Scott debated with himself to lower Virgil back to the ground. It was obvious that Virgil was anything but fine. On the other hand, Virgil was old enough to know what was good for him. If he said he was okay, then Scott had to accept that. So he just supported his brother's back, until he had gotten his breath back.

"Okay, let's get up," Virgil said from between clenched teeth.

With Scott's help, Virgil made it into a standing position. He was shaky, but he pretty much managed to stay on his feet under his own power.

"How about you sit down on the sofa?" he suggested to his brother, holding him firmly at his good arm.

Virgil eyed the distance to the sofa – four steps – then nodded. "I think I can make it."

A thin sheen of sweat covered Virgil's forehead by the time they made it to the sofa, but finally he settled down, Scott at his side. Scott checked the wound, but the dressing had held, the sealant he had applied underneath was doing its job of stopping the bleeding.

"What now?" he asked.

It was clear Virgil needed more medical attention. He needed to go to a hospital and have the bullet removed from his shoulder. On the other hand, Scott wanted to get home into his own dimension as quickly as possible, preferably together with Virgil. If they got him to a hospital, there would be endless rounds of questions. He was not willing to leave Virgil's side, but he did not know how to explain that there were two Virgils and two Scotts. There was no way they would be able to start talking about parallel dimensions and gateways connecting them. It was highly doubtful anybody would believe them.

"I called WASP when those goons showed up," Jeff said. "They should be here in a short while.

"Virgil, Scott," he turned to his two standing sons, "you make yourself scarce. For the moment you two don't exist. Best would be if you could hide out in this other dimension place.

"Virgil," he now turned to the wounded Virgil on the sofa, "you're going to the hospital. If anybody asks, you work for Tracy Industries, don't forget that. Scott, I can see you won't leave his side. I wouldn't expect anything less of you. But try not to mention this other place; I would like to have my oldest son keep his career if possible. Alan, you go with them and keep an eye on them. All clear?"

"Yes, sir," was the uniform reply.

In the distance they saw a plane and a ship with the large WASP logo approaching.

tbc

_This was the next to last chapter. The epilogue is to follow. _


	10. Epilogue

Fork In The Road

Part 10 – Epilogue

Virgil was released from the hospital two days later. The surgery had gone without any complications and so he was sent back home to the island to recuperate. Scott and Virgil had been able to spend some more time with their mother. It had been very strange for Virgil; even though he had thought he had been prepared to meet her, seeing her had still been quite a shock to him.

Scott wasn't sure how Jeff had managed to explain the whole situation without mentioning once that for a time there had been more than one Scott and more than one Virgil on the island. The version they all agreed upon was that Jeff had managed to get to a gun just as Virgil had showed up and that it had been Jeff who had killed the leader of the pirates. The two guys Virgil had knocked out had been found, and though there had been no obvious wounds on their bodies to explain why they didn't wake up until they were back on the mainland in a cell, no questions had been asked.

Kyrano, Gordon and Joyce had returned to the main house, as soon as they had seen the WASP plane arriving, and Alan had brought them up to speed before the first ship had dropped its anchor, helping them to get their stories straight.

Tin-Tin and grandma were due to return from Europe the next day. Jeff had called them after everything had been sorted out, and though they had wanted to come home immediately, Jeff had told them to finish their trip as planned.

As they really didn't need any more complications, it was decided that Scott and Virgil would return to their home as soon as possible.

So, three days after the pirate attack, the whole family assembled at the entrance of the cave that hid the gateway.

Virgil had his left arm in a sling, but else was doing fine. He had been assured that there would be no lasting effects, though he would need to do some physical therapy as soon as he was allowed to move the arm again. Scott wondered how they would explain this to their family doctor. The poor man had to cope with enough mysterious accidents in the Tracy family as it was. Now having a wound – a bullet wound at that -- without any paperwork to account for it would be a tough one to explain to him.

There had been some communication going on between the two dimensions and the two Jeffs had agreed that after everybody was back in the dimension they belonged to, they would destroy the cave and block up the gateway for good.

Now that the time for good-byes had come, Scott found that he had difficulties to leave his mother. Spending a few days in her company had driven home once again how big a wound her death in his dimension had torn in his family. He would miss her quiet insight and her love. Even though she knew that he and Virgil weren't really _her_ sons, it had made no difference to her.

He had asked himself the question, if he would rather live here in this dimension, where Joyce was still alive, or in the one he had come from. But every time he had thought about it, he had come to the same conclusion: even though he would miss her, this was not his life. International Rescue was. Even for her, he wouldn't give it up. He now knew that there was a place where she was still alive, and he knew that every time he thought of her, this knowledge would help him.

"I'm going to miss you," he said to her as he was hugging her good-bye.

"Me too," she replied. "But what you have done over there, what you are still doing, it makes me proud. Knowing that you look out after you brothers gives me hope for the time that I won't be here. I love you."

"I love you, too, mom," he whispered then let her go.

She gave a hug to Virgil, mindful of his shoulder. Scott didn't listen in to what they were saying, but guessed that there were similar statements exchanged.

He turned to Jeff, holding out his hand. Jeff wouldn't have anything of it and pulled Scott into a hug, which the younger Tracy returned with interest. When he drew back, Jeff held on to Scott's shoulder for a moment.

"You and your brother have given me a lot to think about. This International Rescue of yours, maybe we can do something like this here as well. It's a good thing. I will not forget you."

Scott smiled. He was pleased to think that maybe in this world it didn't need the death of someone he loved to bring out something as good as International Rescue. If it was up to this dimension's Scott and Virgil, it would work out. Since the two had returned from his own universe, they had been talking of nothing else but the things they had seen on the other side. Though Scott suspected that part of 'Scott's' enthusiasm was due to his wish to have a plane like Thunderbird 1 to fly. Anyway, Jeff Tracy had already started a search for his Brains and if he found him, maybe they could pull it of.

"I wish you the best of luck, sir."

He then exchanged handshakes with the brothers, saying good-bye to Kyrano.

"Okay, Virgil, let's go."

Turning away, he climbed down the ladder into the cave, followed by Virgil. Taking a deep breath, he faced the wall that hid the gateway. If he didn't know better, he wouldn't have believed this was anything but an ordinary rock wall.

"That's it," he said to Virgil.

His brother nodded. "Come on, let's get back home."

Together they stepped through the wall and back into the world that was their home.

The end

_There it is. The End. It's over. Fini. Ende._

_Well, not really. I've already finished a short sequel to 'Fork In The Road', which is waiting for beta, and have another story in the planning stage._

_I'm also working on another story, which is very John-centric for all those who complained he didn't show up in this story. As with this story here, though, I will finish writing the story before I start posting, so it will take a little while. Please be patient, but a least you will know the story will have a beginning, a middle and an end._

_I hope you all enjoyed reading 'Fork In The Road' as much as enjoyed writing it. It's been a long time since Thunderbirds has been my fandom, and it was really fun to get back to the old episodes after over ten years._

_I do apologize to all about the 'Virgil who gets …' teaser. I didn't realize that some might think I would kill him off. For the books, I do not kill off any main character. I might hurt them, in fact I enjoy it, but never killing. Okay, there was one exception, once, a long time ago, in another fandom and it was really only a joke, honestly._

_So, just let me know what you think. _

**Andrewjameswilliams** there were a few problems with getting Virgil back to the IR dimension. One, he's not really fit to travel at the moment. Running back to the cave to get back home doesn't work, and they don't have time to get him there on a stretcher before the WASP guys show up. Two, his blood is on the floor, so the non-IR Tracys better provide a body to go with it. They have problems enough to explain who shot the bad guy without mentioning that there were two Virgils. Three, I have plans for 'Virgil' and 'Scott' being in Thunderbirds World (and this does sound like a theme park …)


End file.
